


Up in the Air

by Catminty



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Body Play, Sticky Sex, slight Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-20 07:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1501907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catminty/pseuds/Catminty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless Turmoil/Deadlock smut for an old prompt that I can no longer find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up in the Air

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a prompt a while back on tfanonkink asking for a smaller mech used as a "spike sleeve". This is my interpretation. There's always a bit of danger when it comes to Decepticons. That's half the fun!
> 
> Unbeta'd, quick, and dirty

It was dark in the small room claimed by the commander. Only the sharp lines of glowing biolights and an orange optic band lit the consuming darkness. The massive bulk shifting on the berth muffled the whining cooling fans of the shaking form it covered. 

All strength left Deadlock after the third overload wracked his frame. It was well past his duty shift, but he was wise enough not to bring it up to his superior. Not a second time, anyway. You only needed to be taught a lesson once with Turmoil. Mechs who didn’t learn the first time ended up dead. The way he was spread wide and vulnerable made dead a real possibility if he didn’t play his cards right.

Turmoil. A deep rumble chased a chill down Deadlock’s backstruts and straight into his fluttering valve. The Decepticon commander was taking his leisure on his second overload. Usually they simply parted ways after a single round of breakneck fragging. This was the first time the massive mech went a second round with him, and it was also the first time they ever took it slow. A string of nervous excitement added to the exhausted quiver in Deadlock’s frame. 

Each thrust was slow and measured. Just enough force was used to make Deadlock rock forward on his hands and knees. Small, circular gyrations at the deepest penetration stimulated deep cluster nodes to fire with each firm prod of the spike’s bulbous tip. Their joining slid smoothly through the slick of lubricant and transfluid. The silvery wetness leaked out of Deadlock’s valve and trailed down his splattered thighs. 

A massive hand cupped Deadlock’s midsection when his arms finally gave out. Fingers traced down his bugling stomach, mapping the path of its owner’s long, thick spike as it slowly slid in and out of the lax frame. Turmoil’s engine purred happily, and he trust hard once into the constricting valve. Deadlock choked out a soft whimper.

The dominating energy field at the smaller Decepticon’s back lifted as Turmoil settled upright on his knees. Deadlock’s legs flailed weakly as the berth beneath his knees drew away. Or, rather, as he was raised into the air. His whole frame tensed in alarm, hands scrambling for purchase on the berth held just out of reach. What was going on?

Cooling fans spun hard in the small room, their steady hum filling in the sudden silence. Turmoil had gone deathly still. Fear sliced into Deadlock’s spark. Had he done something wrong? Forcing his limbs still, the small Decepticon submissively let his body fall limp in his superior’s grasp. He watched his chronometer, not even daring to look back at the frame looming above him. Tension drew his frame tight with each passing tick. His ventilations increased to an alarming rate that caused his limited vision to swim.

It took a while until he noticed it. With each nervous twitch that wracked his frame, a firm, aroused pulse traveled through Turmoil’s spike. When he realized what was going on, a burning heat flushed through Deadlock’s systems in place of the chilled terror. It was ludicrous. It was insulting.

It was one of the most arousing, mindfuckery of a powerplay Turmoil had done to him. The idea of egging on the situation was just too tempting to resist.

“I-” Deadlock choked on static. “Turmoil?”

The massive mech growled darkly, the vibrations traveling through the spike still buried deep in Deadlock’s valve. 

Shaking slightly in half play, half fright, Deadlock corrected himself quickly, “C-Commander Turmoil, sir?”

Turmoil’s second hand joined the first under Deadlock’s body, cradling his chest. What first seemed like a comforting move quickly turned to something more hostile as the hulking mech wrapped two fingers and a thumb around Deadlock’s neck. The grip was loose, but the treat was still apparent. Don’t speak. Suspended as he was, there was not much the smaller mech could do but shut up and wait obediently for his commander’s orders.

After a moment of silence, Turmoil withdrew his spike from Deadlock’s clenching valve. His hips swayed backwards sluggishly then quickly slid back forward, burying his massive spike into his captive’s valve. 

Deadlock groaned as the mech twice his size began fragging with a gusto. He felt himself be pulled back and forth with each thrust. The fact that he was suspended in the air and his limbs were brushed aside with each move allowed the spike to slide in deeper than before. An over-sensitized node cluster at the back of his valve was repeatedly abused by the continuous, hard impalement. The relentless onslaught made Deadlock’s entire body spasm in Turmoil’s hands. 

Yelps in pained pleasure intermingled between hoarse moans as the grip on Deadlock’s chest tightened. Turmoil’s vents pumped molten gusts as he worked the limp body fast and hard over his pulsing spike. The massive Decepticon doubled over, grunting with each punishing jerk until the last, brutal pump. Growling, he held strong, gripping the thin abdominal plating that encased his spike as it emptied its burning reservoirs. 

Spent, Turmoil slowly unclenched his grip and carefully pulled Deadlock off his softening spike. The last overload must have pushed his frag toy past the point of exhaustion. With a pleased rumble, the commander laid down and settled Deadlock across his chest. He smirked to himself at the feel of the warm moisture trickling over his frame from the gaping valve. Perhaps he’d make Deadlock lick up the mess once he rebooted.


End file.
